Theater review: CPT's 'Dreams' should let sleeping dogs lie

There is a wonderful Gary Larson Far Side cartoon about what a dog hears. Her master says "OK Ginger, I've had it. You stay out of that garbage! Understand?" But what the dog hears is "Blah blah Ginger blah blah blah."

For many, that pretty much captures what it's like when someone talks about their dreams. Though spoken with unbridled passion and shared in earnest, their disjointed recollections and futile effort to make sense out of sleep-induced nonsense fall on the ear as if spoken in an undecipherable tongue.

For 60 minutes, cast members Amy Compton, Benjamin Gregg, Caitlin Lewins, Anne McEvoy, and Darius Stubbs share their dreams while in the midst of dreaming them. They relive the stuff of which night visions are made -- disorienting encounters with loved ones, incoherent philosophical reflections, and haunting anxieties -- and weave them together to form a surreal slice of stream-of-subconscious REM storytelling.

Their collective dreamscape is wonderfully enhanced by eerie superimposed imagery by Eunsu Kang, dramatic lighting and music by Joe Burke and Michael Bratt and minimalist post-apocalyptic set design and costuming by Ian Petroni and Inda Blatch-Geib.

Like the dreams they portray, the performances are both confounding and initially intriguing. Each member of the ensemble is superb, bringing a unique and wonderful physicality and creativity to their work. In the very intimate confines of CPT's Storefront Studio, false moments and directorial missteps have nowhere to hide, and there are none to be found in this production.

What we are seeing on stage is a depiction of the actual, very private dreams of the cast and director, which have been devised, detailed and dramatized from round-table discussions and improvisational reenactments in preparation for this performance. They are not the common nightmares that everyone can relate to (such as being naked in front of a classroom) or universal Freudian fantasies (such as one's mother being naked in front of a classroom) or other pedestrian musings that infiltrate our sleep.

The theater playbill explains that both the show's title and approach are inspired by Andy Warhol, whose 1965 film "13 Most Beautiful Boys" featured young men revealing their inner selves by simply posing in front of the camera. Both the film and the play, it is argued, create a personal portrait. Yet Warhol's 16 millimeter mug shots exuded the raw sexuality of his subjects, while this play inexplicably ignores that most prevalent and dynamic of dream themes.

Consequently, only fleeting moments in this play strike a familiar cord with the audience. For the most part, "13 Most American Dreams" is an evening of "blah blah Ginger." It is very well done, but undecipherable nonetheless.

Good theater that merely reflects dream experience rather than explores or explains it is an interesting journey until the novelty wears off. It could be argued that bad theater that lulls its audience to sleep serves the same purpose and is, in fact, more utilitarian. We tend to find our own dreams far more fascinating than we find others'.

"13 Most American Dreams" continues through June 2 at Cleveland Public Theatre's Storefront Studio, 6415 Detroit Ave. in Cleveland's Gordon Square Arts District. For tickets, which range from $10 to $25, call 216-631-2727 or visit www.cptonline.org.